


Hang On, Let Go

by warlockdetective



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Child Neglect, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, as modern as you can be in the Snicketverse anyway, take a (metaphorical) sip whenever I imply how much I hate Widdershins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23354842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warlockdetective/pseuds/warlockdetective
Summary: Violet waits for her ride. Fiona's lost track of how long she's been waiting for hers.
Relationships: Violet Baudelaire/Fiona
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Hang On, Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> While there's a part of me that's admittedly a little nervous that I didn't get the dynamic down well, another part of me found this to be one of the most emotionally cathartic things I've written in a while.  
> Honest feedback is appreciated.

Fiona looks at her phone, rereading the messages she sent for the seventh (eighth? she lost track after the fifth) time that afternoon. She'd sent them at 3:15, and it was now 6:25; no reply, no "read at" indicator, _nothing_. She can't help the numb sort of anger that comes as she sighs, looking around from where she stands outside of the building. The buses have long since left by now, and she can't exactly call--

The kind of creak that can only come from old metal breaks her out of her thoughts and brings her attention to a park just across the way. The elementary school was right across from the park, and she's about to brush it off as a young child at the park when she pins the exact source of the noise; someone she knows on the swings. Well, kind of knows; they talked occasionally if they saw each other in the halls, and they were almost partners for a science project. She knows _of_ Violet more than she actually knows her.

She catches the shock on Violet's face when she walks over, skidding herself to a stop as gracefully as she can so she can look at her. She doesn't think she's ever seen Violet without a ribbon in her hair before, and she startles a little when she realizes that they are, in fact, looking at each other. "Why are you still here?" Violet asks after a moment. There's no coldness to the question; just a genuine, albeit _blunt_ , curiosity.

"Why are _you_ still here?" Fiona deflects, colder than she means to. She's not sure if Violet picks up on it, nor does she really have the chance to really dwell on it.

"Science Club ended a little later than usual today, my father's coming to pick me up in a bit," she answers so casually, so calmly.

"Mine..." She's about to add the word "too" when she looks back at the texts she sent, still unread. She doesn't bother finishing the sentence at that, but she's awkward leaving the conversation there. It's then that a question slips, "Your dad doesn't get mad about that?" and she immediately finds herself wanting to take it back.

"No, why would he?" Violet responds, and something about how confident it is catches Fiona off-guard.

"I--" she can't find her words, but she wonders if it's better not to, at least for now. She forces her focus from Violet to the swing itself as she asks, "What're you doing?"

There's a pause, and Violet gestures to the swing and shrugs a little. "It helps a little if I'm stressed. You might find it a little silly, but--"

"No no no!" Fiona rushes out--she knows that shame, and she doesn't like to see it so clearly--as she walks over to the neighboring swing, hesitant to sit; were they close enough to really sit like this, let alone talk like this? "Anything in particular?" she asks, almost steadying herself as she sits. Maybe it'll help to not think about her own shit right now, not think about--

"Do you ever get mad at your dad?" leaves Fiona quicker than she realizes, a small panic when it registers that she _said_ it.

"I guess?" There's a sort of hesitance to Violet's tone as she answers, as if she doesn't even really believe it, as if she isn't fearful. Fiona hates the sort of envy that comes because of it, even as Violet continues, "I mean, sometimes we read each other wrong or say the wrong thing after a bad day, but we try not to leave it unsaid. It's kind of like that with everyone else too, I guess."

Fiona doesn't respond; she can't respond. It's only when Violet pushes herself back and begins swinging that she realizes she doesn't have to. "It was Klaus's first day back at school," Violet begins, the swing gradually picking up momentum as she continues, "I know he has a habit not to text in class, but I still can't help but worry when I don't hear from him."

"You have a brother?" _Stop talking, Fiona,_ her father's voice in the back of her mind chastises, her gaze leaving Violet for a moment as she tries to push his tone back.

"Yeah," Violet says, a proud sort of smile on her face as she talks, "He's in middle school right now." She skids herself to a stop again when she adds, "And a sister--Sunny's her name--but she's way too young to be in school right now." The humor in her tone makes Fiona laugh a little, but then Violet asks, "What about you? Do you have any siblings?"

Fernald had left years before, and at the time she had been angry for a reason she couldn't place. It wasn't that managed to get out, it could _never_ be because of that. Only a month ago, she had realized it was because he had left without _her._ Sure, they'd probably have a hard time fending for themselves, but they'd be away from **him** , and they'd be able to talk without him trying to trace any of it--

"Yeah," she forces herself to speak, mentally cursing herself when she hears how strained her voice is. "We don't talk too much anymore but--" She stops the sentence there, knowing she'll probably go on a tangent, and _no one want to hear it, Fi_ \--

"Do you want me to push?" Violet asks, a concern on her face Fiona can't look at, not right now.

"Yeah," she says, and hates how she feels almost small when she speaks. Violet's hands on her back are gentle, soft, yet when she pulls back Fiona has to fight herself from flinching. If Violet notices, she's quiet about it as she pushes, careful as the momentum builds. "We're studying fungi in science--wait, you're in my science class, you'd probably find it boring--"

"I think it's neat!" Violet interrupts, and Fiona can't hide the shock on her face. She's too used to being shut down when she tries to talk about it. She's used to her father telling her "boys won't take interest in that", she's used to the tattered books, the consequences of trying to defend--

"I miss my brother," she admits in a breath, in an attempt to stop herself from thinking about it, "I'd call him, but my dad won't let me, and even if I'm not home he can _trace it_ \--" She thinks about the speed, about the height, and something about the distance makes her uneasy enough to snap back and register her words. "I can't talk to him about school, because always tells me I'm probably gonna flunk in the end, or sometimes he asks if I finally like boys yet--"

She doesn't notice that Violet had stopped pushing her several minutes ago. She doesn't notice the look on her face as she listens to Fiona talk, one of an emotional fury paired with shaking fists. She's too focused on her own fury to realize that Violet's stopped talking, too. It isn't until Violet speaks again that everything comes back. "You're not going back there," her voice is cold, almost monotone.

"Easy for _you_ to say, I don't really have any other choice," Fiona cuts back, a fury in her voice unintended for her.

"Fiona--"

"What else am I supposed to do, Violet?" she asks, her voice raising despite herself as she continues, "Everything I have is there, I have nowhere else to go, and even if I can get out of there the fucker can _track me, and it's too dangerous for my brother to_ \--"

" _Fiona,_ " Violet cuts back, worry in the fury, " _ **Let go**_ \--"

And then Fiona loses her grip. Suddenly, she is airborne, and she isn't sure if it's for better or for worse that her feet don't get tangled. She hears Violet cry her name the instant she lands in the grass, not hard enough to break anything, but still enough to hurt. "I'm fine," she speaks in an instant, but she finds herself too shocked to bring herself to her feet yet. It could've been worse. She's felt worse.

It doesn't stop Violet from running to her side and lifting her-- _holy **shit** , she's stronger than she looks_\--up to a stand. "I--" she stops, a quick huff of either suppressed laughter or panic leaving her before she says, "I meant that _figuratively,_ I'm so sorry--"

And then Violet is hugging her, and for a second Fiona can't breathe. "Oh," manages to leave her, and before she knows it she's laughing at herself. She doesn't register that she's _crying_ until she feels Violet press a kiss to her head; she wonders if her mother did the same for _her,_ or maybe her father, and something about it makes her cry more, makes her shake a little harder as she tries so hard to breathe.

She hears tires come to a slow across the street and feels Violet look up for a moment before returning her gaze to her. "Stay the night with us," she seems to urge. "You can stay longer, and maybe you can stay forever." A sad huff of a laugh leaves Fiona at that, but she doesn't try to argue; she's too tired for that right now. "You don't have talk about anything if you don't want to, but if I can get you away from that piece of fucking **shit** for a day--"

"I'd like that," Fiona admits, and for the first time today she feels herself smile. She looks at her phone as the driver steps out and asks Violet about her day; no reply, no "read at" indicator, nothing. She drops it in the grass before getting in; if she's lucky, the lawnmowers will miss sight of it and destroy it tomorrow morning before the school opens. It's a large thing to hope for, but for just an instant she finds herself confident enough to dare to hope.

As soon as she's in the backseat, Fiona closes her eyes and breathes.


End file.
